Inside my head
by LiesjeeeWxX
Summary: A background story of Murtagh during the last part of eldest and Brisingr. I took the liberty of adding a bit of romance... I suck at summaries. Rated T for now.


**Err… Hi! So, this is my first Eragon fanfic … This story was something that just popped into my head when I was in the car listening to Inside My Head by Di-Rect.  
>I know I'm not paying enough attention to the bond between the dragon and it's rider but it's hard! If anyone has any tips or complaints or anything.. please review? <strong>

**Warnings: Violence and possibly lemon or lemony stuff… in later chapters (I'm rubbish at writing that however…)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon, and I don't own several parts of the plot either (they're from the movie Troy!)  
>And the title of the entire story belongs to Di-Rect… Let's assume I own nothing :')<br>Everything else you may recognize belongs to the brilliant and amazing Christopher Paolini.**

**Chapter 1 **

Murtagh stalked towards his tent, feeling irritated. He was anxious for the battle that was to come. He knew he was strong enough to conquer Eragon in battle. He just didn't want to, because despite everything that had passed between them, he still regarded Eragon as his friend. But he didn't want to face Galbatorix' wrath if he failed. Murtagh almost growled in frustration but decided against it. The men already feared him enough. The dilemma tore him apart and definitely didn't help him gain the concentration he needed.

He looked around the campsite and saw the soldiers al scurrying around in an energetic manner, bustling with activity. Anticipating the fight. Murtagh felt an unpleasant swooping sensation in his stomach and he felt like he was going to be ill.

_It'll be alright. _Sounded the voice of his dragon in his mind. Murtagh sighed and sent Thorn a wave of comfort to calm the young dragon. He was just as scared as he was, he didn't want to fight the only other of his kind he had ever met, besides Shruikan.

Although Murtagh wasn't particularly looking forward to this fight, he was eager to show his new powers to his old friend. He was proud of his newfound strength and very keen on keeping it. Maybe his display of power would tone down the courage of the Varden a bit. Although Murtagh wasn't happy with his king, the Varden took it to a whole new level. There was nothing wrong with monarchy.

He reached his tent and nodded to the head of his guard before he entered. Sighing deeply he pushed the canvas aside. He walked in and looked around, only then he saw a young woman tied up against one of the poles of his tent. She was beautiful, he observed. With hair black as the night and a fair complexion. She had the brightest blue eyes Murtagh had ever seen, those eyes appeared to be trying to burn a hole in the canvas of his tent. With another dropping sensation in his stomach he saw that her ears were pointy.

"Gustav?" Murtagh called.

"Yes m'lord?"

"Would you be so kind as to explain to me why there is an elf tied up in my tent?" Murtagh asked sounding calm but with a dangerous edge in his voice.

"The men caught her in the woods sir. She was there spying for the Varden. We thought she could… amuse you." Gustav answered with a laugh in his voice.

At this the elf turned her head towards the two men, her glare defiant.

Murtagh waved his hand, indicating Gustav to leave.

She stayed silent as Murtagh threw on his armor and splashed some water in his face. He sighed deeply and looked at the woman who had resumed to staring at the canvas.

"What's your name?" He asked her.

She didn't answer him but she scowled deeply.  
><em>Ah, so she's one of those women <em>he thought amusedly, Murtagh was in for a game, maybe it could distract him.

"Listen elf, your silence won't get you anywhere. Why don't you play nice and tell me your name?"

"Why don't _you _play nice and let me leave?" she answered without looking at him. Her voice was rich and had an accent Murtagh couldn't quite place.

"I can hardly do that now can I? The Varden are now one elf short. I have a bargain though. You tell me your name and I'll free you of those bonds." He indicated towards the thick ropes that held her hands behind her back and secured her against the pole.

She turned her glare towards him, he stood proudly under it and didn't let his cool mask waver.  
>When she saw his defiance she sighed.<p>

"My name is Niduen"

He walked towards her and kneeled where her hands were tied to the pole behind her back. And started to work on the tight ropes. He could see where the rope had cut in her skin, there were red spots on her wrist, some of them bleeding slightly and they looked like they were hurting.

As soon as she was free from her bonds she jerked her hands away from him. Staring him straight in the eye.

"Do those hurt?" Murtagh asked indicating towards her wounds trying to divert her attention.

"No" She said softly but with a hard look in her eyes.

"No?" he took her slender wrist in his hand roughly and she hissed in pain. "I thought so" He said.  
>His fingers becoming more tender on her skin instantly "<em>Waíse heill" <em>the magic worked instantly, leaving unblemished skin behind.

She glared at him all of a sudden "Thanks" she spat.

Surprised by her sudden change of attitude he released her.

_She is strange, even for a two-legged. _Came Thorn's voice in his mind. _I know _Murtagh replied

Curiosity was seeping through Thorn's every word now. _She's got the strangest mind, it feels very different from yours… But f__amiliar too. _

_She's an elf. Do you wish to see her? Where are you? _Thorn sent him an image of him flying right above camp. Murtagh felt him land near his tent and all of a sudden Thorn stuck his head inside the tent. Niduen gasped and bowed her head at him.

_Oh to you she _can _play nice. I see how it is. _Murtagh thought bitterly. Thorn sent him the mental version of a snort.

Thorn brought one glittering eye very close to her and stared at her. He brushed her consciousness and she reached out to him.

_You are__ different, two legged. _Thorn's curious voice said in her head.

_Yes Bjartskular, but you know my kind. My race has been connected to yours for many centuries. _

_Yes he is aware of that, elf. If you think he'll have compassion for you because of it you are__ mistaken. _Startled by Murtagh's sudden presence in her mind she broke the connection. Thorn sniffed at her dress. Niduen stared right at him. _ She smells nice _he remarked to Murtagh.  
><em>Really now, <em>came Murtagh's amused reply.  
><em>And she is brave. And less ug<em>_ly looking than those other two-legged. _

Murtagh looked at his dragon. _What has gotten into you? If you like her so much than you can take her. She's already annoying me._

Thorn made a coughing sound that sounded a lot like a scoff and retreated himself from the tent _I'm going to go hunting. _Murtagh glared at him _Fine, leave me with the temperamental elf. All alone. Don't forget that if I die, you die as well. _

_Step up and be a man in that case. And keep her away from sharp objects. _With that Thorn took off.  
>Murtagh sighed and turned around. She was standing now, she had gotten up without him noticing? He was going to have to watch his back, he realized.<p>

Maybe he should've left her tied up, you couldn't trust anyone, he knew that much. And she was a supporter of the Varden for crying out loud. What was he thinking…

"Shur'tugal" she interrupted his thoughts in the old language "You have to let me go."

"I can't just let you go" he said tiredly, continuing in her language "You're a supporter of the Varden. I've made an oath."

She sighed deeply. "I understand" she said still in the old language. Her voice taking a drastically more soft note. "Does the king… punish you and Thorn often?"

"Yes," Murtagh answered curtly. Not really keen on focusing on that particular subject right before a battle he already was reluctant about.

"Have you ever thought of trying to find a way out?"

"Of course we have. But I have made an oath in the old language. You can't escape from that. Besides, the king knows our true names, he has complete control over Thorn and me." He said in a tone void of any emotion.

"The elves have ways-"

"No. It's not possible."

"But it _is_. Your true name _can_ change."

He looked her in the eye. His stare suddenly longing and full of pain. In that moment Niduen's heart went out to the young rider and his dragon. She cursed the wicked king, Murtagh and Thorn shouldn't have to go through this.

"Now is hardly the time." Murtagh replied curtly when he got a hold on himself again. His desperate look replaced by a determined one "When we have won I'm taking you back to Urû-Baen and then we'll see."

Her cool mask wavered for a moment, a look of true despair replacing it. She slumped to the ground.

"I'll have some food brought for you. I have a battle to win."

When Murtagh had walked out of the tent Niduen sighed deeply.

How was she supposed to get out of this one? Escaping was nearly impossible in her state. She felt tired and had a fuzzy feeling in her head. And she hadn't been able to keep Murtagh out of her mind when she was speaking to Thorn. Something was wrong. She would have to wait until they were on the move before she made her escape. _If Eragon doesn't get captured _she thought. In that case she would have to stay and help them both.

_What if I can help__ Murtagh though… two free riders is better than one certainly. And he knows all of Galbatorix' secrets._

She thought of the look of despair she had gotten from Murtagh and pity gripped her by the guts.

She would help him. She continued to ponder her options

A few hours later Murtagh stumbled into the tent. Niduen looked up expectantly with a note of fear in her eyes.

"No I didn't capture him. Go celebrate, elf." He spat.

She just kept staring at him and observed his shaking form.

"Are you hurt?" she asked in a calm voice as he remained silent.

"No." came his curt reply as he glared at her.

"Where is Eragon? Didn't you capture him?"

"No." he snapped and suddenly sunk to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. A more powerful wave of pity came over Niduen, she moved closer to him and put a hand on his arm.

"What happened" she asked softly. He shook her hand off harshly.

"I overpowered Eragon, he was disarmed, but I let him go." He said in a clipped voice.

"You did the right thing, the king-"

"-is going to punish me, and worse, he's going to punish Thorn. I'll regret the day I was born." Murtagh interrupted her harshly.

"You captured an elf."

"Yes" He snorted bitterly "Instead of the dragonrider he asked for."

He remained silent for a while as he observed her. "He'll want to interrogate you"

Niduen shrugged "So be it. I'll manage"

"He might drive you mad" Murtagh said boring his eyes into hers.

"I hardly think so. Our minds don't work the same-"

"He might torture you" he continued relentlessly.

"Can we not talk about this? You need rest," she spoke with a sharp edge in her voice.

He sighed and looked away from her, his eyes drifting to the bowl with pork stew.

"You haven't eaten." He said accusingly.

"I will not eat _that." _

"You'll have to eat eventually."

She just stared defiantly at him. He started pulling of his armor and she decided it was time to sleep. She turned around and only saw one bed.

She turned around again and he was smirking triumphantly.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Nothing" she replied, she walked to the far corner of the tent and sat down while leaning against the canvas

He looked at her funny. She got irritated and spat: "goodnight" it sounded like a curseword.

"Goodnight" he replied softly.

When the first light of dawn touched the camp, Murtagh made his way over to Niduen with the intention to wake her. But as he took a step in her direction her eyes flew open, alert and awake.

"We're leaving" he said and watched as her eyes widened with barely repressed dread.

"_Now" _he spat.

"What about the camp?"

"The soldiers will break it up."

She stood up and he grasped her wrists, bound them together in front of her and started towing her along. All of a sudden she wasn't so sure if it was a good idea to help the young rider. Going to Urû Baen meant no chance of escaping whatsoever. Maybe she could knock her guards unconscious? She was feeling slightly better now. She might be able to overcome the walls around their minds... but they might be under the protection of the king, she pondered.

He was towing her along across camp and halted when they were in front of a big grey warhorse. "This is my horse" he spoke softly and she looked at him confused. "Up you go" he grunted as he lifted her on top of the big horse and then climbed up behind her.

She was startled "What are you doing? Aren't you going to fly?" she asked with a growing sense of dread.

"No I'm keeping an eye on you. Thorn will fly above us, and these few men are coming with us on horse." He gestured to his personal guard who were standing near the edge of the camp.

Very soon they were on the move. Niduen felt Murtagh hard form against her back and noticed he was tense. Thorn also seemed uneasy as he flew above them at a steady pace.

They rode until nightfall. When they had set up the tents and put up a cooking fire, Murtagh stared at Niduen. She had been blatantly ignoring him since they'd left.

The elf was staring into the fire, the flames reflecting in her eyes and creating mysterious shadows on her face. _She truly is beautiful _he thought. But when are elves ever ugly, he thought, Arya had been a right beauty as well. It was a good thing he did not care for trivial matters such as pretty women. With disdain he reminded how Eragon had endangered everyone by rescuing Arya on their way to the Varden. Eragon had not known the woman and she was most likely to die.

With a shock he realized he was doing the same thing. When the king was through with her he would most likely get rid of Niduen.. He could easily have sent Niduen with the rest of the soldiers. If they force-fed her the potion there was not much she could do. Murtagh was just strengthening the king's wrath by traveling by foot and thereby postponing their arrival.

The next morning when they took off again, Niduen had still not looked him in the eye. She had been blatantly ignoring his presence, not even looking in his direction. That was not something Murtagh enjoyed in the presence of his soldiers.

The rest of the week continued in much the same matter. They rode the entire day, made camp at twilight and Niduen pretended Murtagh and his soldiers did not excist.

On the eight day however, they kept riding although it was getting dark. Puzzled, Niduen tried to find out why, and that was when she saw it. Urû-Baen. The lair of the mad king, with an eternal storm cloud above it.


End file.
